Karen Russell & Wells Tower Discussing Swamplandia!
My 5th grade psychotherapist did say I was a manipulative prick
March 15, 2011 — Karen Russell knows how to make a little blogger’s quiet heart squeal with joy.
Not only did she and Wells Tower engage in some hot back and forth over writing, novels, Florida, Southern Gothic, and Columbia University; not only did I get top-notch insults from two of the New Yorker Magazine’s “30 Under 40″ stud authors; not only did I eat crackers and cheese, with grapes and a bit of wine; not only were those vittles provided gratis by the NYPL and its Young Lions program; not only did I get yelled at only once for breaking some invisible line separating the cheese servers’ side of the buffet from the cheese eaters’ side of the buffet, mostly because my love of Brie demanded I get around the old lady taking her sweet time with a couple strawberry slices; not only did all of this go abnormally, amazingly well, but Russell sent me spinning by saying:
- I was wondering if/when (ed: can’t remember which) you would come for my insult.
- The people at Powell’s (awesome bookstore in Portland, OR) told me to watch out for you.
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Tao Lin Reading – Richard Yates
Tao Lin, darling of the sweatpants mafia
September 7, 2010 – What the hell is going on when Tao Lin reads at the same type of corporate bookstore from which his “protagonist” steals books in his new novel, Richard Yates? Why does Lin’s muddled, muffled, painfully awkward high school sophomore-on-Xanax voice sometimes feel like an act, and Yates is his alibi? How is it that none of this matters, that Richard Yates might be an important comment on modern life, or it might be a hybrid cash-in novel based on a copy/paste transcript of a melodramatic Gmail relationship?
I’m stumped. There seems to be something going on here, but I’m not intelligent enough to suss it out. Three weeks I’ve struggled with this constipated idea and now I need to shit it out.
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Hey everyone,
I’ve been noticing some problems with my theme, and I’ve had some complaints about how difficult it is to navigate, so I’m going to switch it up. I sure hope I can pull this off without too much difficulty.
So here’s the new theme. It’s not the most welcoming thing in the world, but it’s much easier to navigate and read.
If anyone has any suggestions as to which WP Theme MIGHT BE BETTER (and I’m not above buying an especially good one), please by all means suggest. Feel free to call me a fucktard for waiting this long to switch, also.
Thanks and fuck off.
-b
Edward Champion, the unabashed dominator of the online literary scene and fearless interviewer of authors, playwrights, film makers, and lonely bloggers, runs a blog of exquisite taste and regular updates. I can’t recommend enough that you visit him there.
In addition to his regular blogging duties, Edward Champion owns the sultry voice of the Bat Segundo Show, a “Radio Free Beer” podcast wherein he discusses craft, theory, philosophy, malt liquor, and the joy of reading, writing, creating, and bullshitting. He used his powers of good to draw me out of my fear cave and talk with the Segundo Show.
The interview is here. We talk Salman Rushdie and hero worship, Amy Sedaris and the C-word, Nicole Krauss and crushing disappointments. I did my best to keep up.
Smell the fear of my unwashed pisspants as I nervously laughed, tic’d, and at one point, lost track of the point I was trying to make with Rick Moody and swam in the silence of dead air for what felt like hours, searching my suddenly empty mind for something to say — anything to say — to finish whatever muddled idea I’d abandoned halfway through meandering anecdote. Despite my best/worst efforts, the Segundo Show pushed on.
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The guest list on this one is insane.
I’m last to hear about this (as usual) but Charles Bock, author of Beautiful Children, is throwing a huge rent party, and everyone who’s anyone in the NYC (and other climes!) literary scene is coming.
Unfortunately, I’m not anyone. Yet. But I can feel good about myself another way: I can donate to the Literary Rent Party and be there in spirit!
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Posted in Other, Readings
Tagged am homes, cancer, charles bock, donate now!, fund raiser, jonathan safran foer, joshua ferris, literary rent party, nicole krauss, please donate, rick moody, seriously donate, world's most literary rent party ever
I’ve still not worked up the balls to listen to myself. I remember too many false starts and “umm”s for this to be anything but humiliating. But! Binnie Klein, author of Blows to the Head: How Boxing Changed My Mind and radio interviewer/DJ extraordinaire, kept things moving and helped pull me kicking and screaming through my first interview. It was exciting, sometimes fun, and harrowing. Terry Gross had better watch her back; Binnie brings funky-fresh air to the table.
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wpkn.org is betting its license to broadcast in Connecticut that I can keep myself from swearing for 15 minutes.
I’m going to run episodes of “Leave It to Beaver” while I sleep to exorcise the naughty words out of my mind.
If you can’t make it tomorrow morning, I’ve got it on good authority that there will be an archived version of the talk.
Given my experience, I'd say I'm lacking the aridity and paucity
Novemeber 4th, 2010 – Amy Sedaris draws a young, excited crowd. Even at the very back of a packed Barnes & Noble reading space (where I was stuck squinting up at the craft-related action on-stage), otherwise jaded and cynical hipster-types — types who’d normally sneer at any physical show of excitement or participation — jumped out of their chairs in response to a call for questions. I counted at least 10 Sedaris fans, some uttering little unconscious “Ooh! Ooh! Ooh!” noises you get from little Kids Who Know, arms raised high in classic elementary school fashion or the double-armed waving “stranded in the middle of a lake on a boat with a dead motor” SOS manner.
Despite the distance and absolute certainty that she would not be called on, one girl in my row clutched at her scarf and bounced up and down, standing with one foot propped on the seat of her chair like she couldn’t quite commit to full-out Standing-On-a-Chair-level-desperation in front of peers. This was some serious arm-raising, designed to attract the gaze of a possibly myopic (judging by her glasses) Ms. Sedaris, all to ask that burning “‘Candy” question and satisfy some core-level need for star-fucking.
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Posted in Insults, Readings
Tagged amy sedaris, book, cook book, craft book, crafts, cunt, depth, great insults, hilarious, hipster, i like you, recipes, sedaris, simple times, strangers with candy, warmth, weird
Mancrush: confirmed
December 7th, 2010 – Salman Rushdie was tired. He peered at the crowd with hooded eyes as he stepped up to the podium, his body language screaming “fuck the Q&A.” This was the last stop on his reading tour for Luka and the Fire of Life, he admitted to a bit of fatigue.
Ah, but his voice! Rich and reassuring, with a drummer’s knack for varying tempo to change the mood. He is every inch a storyteller, a veteran professor working an old lesson plan on a fresh class of students. He read mostly from memory, stopping to look at the book almost as if to keep him on-task; it was like he was tempted to riff off the words on the page like good bands improvise off old songs, new notes and progressions unique to the moment or venue, a singular treat for the audience.
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Posted in Insults, Readings
Tagged 192 books, children's novel, christopher hitchens, insult, insults, luka and the fire of life, novel, rushdie, salman rushdie, satanic verses
More than a little Don Rickles
Nov 10th, 2010 – people of NYC readings: shut up. I’m not interested. The author isn’t. The audience is rolling its eyes and looking at its watch. More than likely, you’re not interested in what you’re saying, either.
You’re talking to hear/watch/feel yourself being listened to/seen by Intelligent People.
Back when I was a cute, trim college student, living in a rotting shitbox near school with a fellow acolyte of youth, invulnerability, and alcohol, I fucking loved to hear myself being intelligent. To float above myself, mind’s eye steered by co-captains arrogance & obliviousness, taking in the crowd’s appreciation of my interesting ideas. Like looking at myself in the mirror and managing to see studflesh and allure where there was nothing but a spare tire and the self-awareness of an autistic puppy. I’d peruse the author’s content, think of some unique position to take, back it up with pagination and direct quotes, and poof! I was out on the town, seen by some pretty girls and maybe some classmates, Being Intelligent w/ Other Intelligent People.
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Posted in Book Reviews, Insults, Read It., Readings
Tagged 192 books, don rickles, harding, hipster bitch, novel, old people, paul harding, rant, shut up